Blindsided
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: Matt and Julie's marriage is temporarily threatened when a figure from the past shows up unannounced on Coach Taylor's doorstep. A Taylor family drama featuring Eric and Tami Taylor and Matt and Julie Saracen.
1. The Visitor

**Author's Warning: **I'm in the process of "cleaning up" my stories. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants as I write and post, and only later do I figure out the story I am _actually_ writing. Some of my stories have two or three different stories inside them that need to be separated out into individual tales for the archives, so I'm in the process of doing that. In short, if you previously read a story titled "Blindsided," you've seen 90% of the following content already, but if you missed that story, I hope you enjoy it now!

**Chapter 1: The Visitor**

"Gracie, honey, I've got to put you down to be able to open the door." Coach Taylor bent over and forced his daughter to slide out of his arms. He dropped the Hello Kitty backpack he'd slung around his shoulder and the duffle bag he'd been holding in his free hand and fished for his keys in the pocket of his shorts. He could feel the pain in his back from trying to hold her and all that stuff. He didn't understand why Grace had suddenly insisted on being carried to and from the car, but he hadn't fought it like he should have. He supposed she was regressing now that she was about to start Kindergarten in two weeks. She probably just needed a little extra daddy affection. And that wasn't so bad, was it?

He opened the door and ushered his daughter and all their gear inside, leaving the bags on the marble floor of the high-ceilinged foyer. It paid to be Dean of Admissions. The Taylors still had a four-bedroom house, but now two of those bedrooms had their own private baths, and that didn't even count the other full bath upstairs or the half bath downstairs. Eric and Tami each had their own walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and the master bath had a soaking tub with jets. Eric had almost had a heart attack when Tami had suggested buying the place, but Braemore had given them a "housing allowance," and her salary, coupled with his own, did put them firmly in a new class. It had taken him a year even to begin to feel at home here, but if they wanted Gracie to be zoned for a good school, then this was the place to live. Eric just prayed neither of them lost a job (it could always happen, and God knew it had before).

He took off his green Pioneer cap – summer training was underway – and tossed it onto an end table in the living room. He ran a hand through his hair and headed for the kitchen. "I gotta get dinner started. Your mom'll be home before long. Why don't you play in the living room for a bit? No TV until after dinner."

"Awwww….dad!"

"Mamma's orders," Eric said as he vanished into the kitchen. He tossed his keys on the black and white granite countertop and opened the stainless steel fridge to make sure Tami had taken out the chicken to thaw the night before. The he started back to the bedroom to change. Maybe he wasn't "east coast people," but he'd quickly gotten used to watching football on the wall-mounted, large-screen, plasma television he was now passing in the living room.

Once he was out of the khakis and polo that had been muddied at practice when his quarterback stumbled out of bounds and took him down on the field, Eric returned to the kitchen to start cooking. Philadelphia had afternoon practices and even afternoon games (no more Friday night lights), and he was home earlier than Tami most days. After a little prodding from his wife, he'd picked up the slack and become a pretty good cook.

He'd just put the chicken in the oven when he heard a knock at the front door. He peered out the peephole of the front door to see a woman with a young boy who appeared to be about a year younger than Gracie, though that was just a guess. The woman looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. Maybe she was one of his player's moms, probably Jose's? No…he'd met Jose's mom at the barbecue. That wasn't her.

He opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?"

"Is Matt here?" the woman asked.

"Matt? Matt Saracen?"

"Yes."

"No. He doesn't live here. He lives in New York." The couple had made the move to the Big Apple to further Matt's art career. Because Julie had become a writer, New York was a good choice for her as well.

"This was the address on file for him."

"Well…he and my daughter used this as their forwarding address for a bit when they were in the process of moving from Chicago. Matt's my son-in-law. Can I help you with something?"

He glanced down at the boy, who was less tan than his mother, but whose cool blue eyes still made an unexpected contrast with his muted brown skin. Then Coach Taylor looked back up at the woman. "Hey…" he drew. "Hey…I know you. You're that woman…you used to help Matt out with his grandmother? I met you once."

"Carlotta," she answered.

"Carlotta," he repeated. He looked back at the boy and into those blue eyes. In his head, he was doing the math, trying to figure out how many years ago Carlotta had lived with Matt and his grandmother, and also trying to remember if he and Julie were dating at the time or if that was when Julie had broken up with him. "Damn," he said. "Well damn! Oh hell!"

Carlotta covered her son's ears and said. "Your language, sir."

"Sorry. Sorry. But…hell…that's Matt's boy, ain't it?"

[***]

Tami noticed that Eric wasn't being particularly responsive while she talked about her day. He was staring off over her shoulder. They sat at the kitchen table, and in the living room the TV murmured where Gracie lay on the brown leather couch, half asleep. Eric hadn't touched his beer.

"What's wrong, hon?"

"We need to talk."

Tami frowned. It wasn't often she heard those words from Eric. "Just let me put Gracie to bed first," she said. She was gone for thirty minutes because, with Gracie Belle, the bedtime routine was always complex. When she emerged into the living room, Eric had drained his beer and had two glasses of wine set out on the glass-topped coffee table. She plucked up hers and sat down on the cushion next to him, turning to face him and tucking one leg up under herself.

"How would you react," he began deliberately, "what would it do to our marriage if you were suddenly to find out that back when we were dating – well, while we were broken up - I had gotten a girl pregnant, that I'd fathered a child, and that I didn't know about it until the mother just suddenly showed up with him years later."

Tami slammed her wine glass down on the coffee table and stared at him with wide eyes. "What? Eric, what did you do! We were only broken up for two weeks! Two weeks! A measly two weeks and you immediately run out and - "

"No! No! No! " he protested, waving his free hand. "This is a hypothetical. This is purely a hypothetical."

"A hypothetical? Why are you giving me this hypothetical all of the sudden?"

Eric sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He rubbed his head anxiously and then let his hand fall to his side. "I had a visitor today."

"A hypothetical visitor?"

"No, not a hypothetical visitor. A real visitor. Carlotta."

Tami shook her head, not recognizing the name.

"That woman who used to be the live-in help for Matt's grandma?"

"Okay." Where was he going with this?

"Well, she was looking for Matt. He and Jules had put this down as their address for a while, you know, so she got it from the internet or something and just showed up on the doorstep. Just showed up with the kid. Years later. Thought that would be a good way to break the news, I guess, just blindside him with it."

"Eric, what are you talking about?"

"The kid. It's Matt's kid. He's the father."

"What?"

"She said he was, and the kid looked just like him. He was the right age."

Tami was shaking her head. "Matt was a boy when she was living with them. He and Julie hadn't even...and she was…how old was she?"

"She couldn't be that much older than him, six years maybe..."

"That's a lot when you're a teenager!"

"Yeah. I know. But Julie was broken up with him, I think, if I'm remembering right. At least I don't think he was cheating on her. I mean, it was still an idiot move - "

"Clearly! Did he even use protection?"

"I didn't exactly ask her that, Tami."

Eric wasn't saying anything more; he was just letting her process the information. "Do you think Julie knows?" she asked finally.

"Matt doesn't even know. I gave her Matt's phone number. I didn't know what else to do. I told her he was married, has his own kid - well, another kid - asked her to go about telling him the right way, try not to just show up on their door step and shove the kid in Julie's – "

"- No, I mean, do you think Julie knows he had sex with her?"

Eric shrugged.

"Because if he told her about that before they were married, this is going to be very upsetting, of course, but it won't be…you know…quite as big a shock. But if she doesn't even know that…I'd be really upset, if I was her, if I found out my husband had sex with some girl while we were broken up and never even bothered to tell me about it."

She noticed that Eric was now looking away from her, his jaw clenched. He had that expression, that expression that said, I better keep my mouth closed or I'm going to get into some serious trouble here. I better watch my step with Tami.

"Oh, Lord, Eric," she moaned. "You had sex with someone while we were broken up."

"No! It didn't go that far."

"And you never told me! I was crying my eyes out, babe. I was crying my eyes out every night of those two weeks and you just had no problem at all moving on, did you? No problem at all."

"May I remind you that you broke up with me? I didn't break up with you."

"I know. I know. That was a mistake on my part."

"Biggest mistake of your life."

This lightened the mood a little and Tami laughed. "Seriously, hon," she said, "I always kind of hoped you were just longing for me the whole time, and all the while you just didn't care? Just moved on?"

"You know that's not true. I was in love with you, Tami. It was a rebound thing. I was at some party. I got drunk…I was a little upset. My girlfriend - who I was madly in love with by the way - had just broken up with me for no damn reason at all. And I went to this party to blow off some steam, and this girl asked me to walk her home, and she invited me in..."

"_You_ had a one night stand?"

Eric had always been happily monogamous. He'd had one long-term girlfriend before Tami. They'd never explicitly discussed Tami's sexual history, however. It had been an unspoken understanding that she regretted her past, that she had turned a new leaf, and that Eric was not to prod into the dirt that rested beneath it. He knew about Mo, of course, but he'd never asked about anyone before Mo, not when they became unexpected friends in high school, not when they were dating in college, not after they had gotten married. Tami, however, thought she knew all about Eric. She knew he had never been interested in having casual sex. What had he called it that first year of college? What was the word he had used? "Rude." Until now, Tami had always assumed that she had been Eric's second and last.

"No," Eric answered. "I just told you we didn't have sex. It didn't go that far. And it's not as if I didn't call her the next day and ask to take her out. We went on a real date."

"But when I asked to get back together you just dropped her like a hot potato?"

"Of course I did. I wasn't going to choose some rebound girl over you."

"Yeah, but I'm sure she had feelings too - "

"Damn, Tami, are you serious? Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to criticize me for something that happened over twenty years ago when I was at my wit's end?"

"I'm being unreasonable, aren't I?"

"Yeeeahhh." The word came out as a nervous laugh.

"I know I am." She reclaimed her wine from the coffee table. She took a sip. "Sorry, sugar. I'm just peeved you never told me. But you know, for Julie, Matt was her _first_, and that was only a few years ago, so if she didn't know he'd been with Carlotta first…that's a totally different situation." She ran a finger up the stem of the wine glass. "Should we tell Julie about this kid before Carlotta does?" she asked. "I mean, I know it's best coming from Matt, but if it ends up coming from Carlotta..."

"I think we should stay out of it," Eric answered. "Just stay out of it unless and until she comes to us."

Tami nodded.

Eric said, "I hope this doesn't…screw them up. It's hard enough, having a kid right after you get married…starting off like that."

Tami reached over and grabbed his hand. "Hey, they're going to be okay. They'll survive this."

Eric sighed and slid closer.

"Thank God we've got each other," she said.

"Mmmhmmm," he echoed, resting his head against hers, closing his eyes, and holding tight.


	2. The Shock

**Chapter 2: The Shock**

"Are you going to get that?" Julie asked. She was busy typing on her laptop. Henry sat in the high chair at the tiny table just off of the kitchen bar in their one-bedroom apartment (Matt, to Julie's relief, now shared a working studio with a friend, so most of his painting supplies didn't littler the apartment). The baby began banging his bottle and scattering cheerios to the floor. Matt walked to the counter and picked up the cell phone. It wasn't playing any special ring tone Julie recognized, so it must have been someone he didn't know well.

"Hello?"

Julie listened to his end of the conversation as she wrote. She was working on an article and normally would have tuned out his talking all together, but he sounded weird.

"What…hey. Hey. How are you? Are you calling from Guatemala? New York? When…how long have you been here? How did you get my number? How are you?"

Matt wasn't asking question after question, giving the mystery Guatemalan no time to answer. Julie stopped typing. The silence was sudden, because Matt was now quietly listening. She couldn't see his face, because he had his back to her, but she could imagine his expression from the tension in his posture. After listening for a long time, he muttered. "Oh…okay. Yeah, Saturday's fine. We can…discuss it. But, are you sure you have to go back to Guatemala so soon? I mean, is this the only time I'm ever going to see him?"

Julie had her chin against her hand now and was just staring at his back.

"Oh…okay. Yeah, noon is fine. Yeah, Lombardi's is fine. I know where that one is." When he had shut the phone and returned it to the countertop, he didn't turn around. He just kept standing there. He had one arm up, his forearm across his mouth.

"Who was that?" Julie asked. Her voice sounded far away from herself. "What did they want?"

Matt turned around slowly. The same look spread across his face that he'd had after she'd told him his dad had died.

"Matt, what's wrong?" She ran to him and put her arms around him. He leaned into her. In the high chair, Henry began to cry.

Julie slid away from her husband and went to tend to Henry. When she had him settled in his pack n' play in the corner of the living room where he usually slept, she came back to the kitchen. Matt was just sitting at the table, his shirt sleeves pulled over both his hands, staring numbly. She sat across the table from him, and he told her about the child he had fathered with Carlotta. Julie's lip trembled. Her eyelashes fluttered, but she didn't cry. "What does she want you to do about it now?"

Matt slid his hands out of his sleeves. He leaned forward and crossed his arms around himself, hugging himself. "She wants child support. She wants to work out some kind of private child support arrangement."

"How can you know it's really yours?"

"She said she'll have a paternity test done if I want."

"She doesn't want you in his life?"

"Nah…" Matt shook his head. "Nah, I mean, she didn't even tell me…he's like…four. I haven't heard from her since she went back to Guatemala. And she says she's going back home. She just wants me to help out as much as I can, work out some kind of private agreement…and she's taking him away." He looked like he was trying to swallow but couldn't. "She's gonna let me meet him once, tell him I'm some kind of friend, not his father, and then she's just gonna take him away. Take him back to Guatemala. I can't…I can't even…I can't do anything. I can't do anything but…the money." He chewed on his bottom lip and raised his eyes, just enough to look at her. "Julie?" he asked tentatively. "I'm sorry."

She studied the table as she spoke. They'd had their fights early in their marriage, but she'd learned to pause and find some way to calm herself. This was going to require a major pause. "I need some time," she said. "I'm going to Philadelphia tomorrow. You can watch Henry for the weekend. I'll come home on Monday. Please don't try to call me while I'm there."

"Julie – "

She looked up. Now the tears were forming in her eyes. "I don't want to be here when she...I just don't. And please don't call me. I need some time to think. I just need some time…We can talk when I come home. Just don't call me while I'm there."

She pushed her chair back from the table, ran to their bedroom, and closed the door. She locked it from the inside and threw herself on the bed, and only there, in private, did she let herself cry.

[***]

Julie raised her hand to knock on her parents' front door and hesitated. She had wanted nothing more than to run away from the shock, and she'd done the only thing she knew to do - she'd run home. Except it wasn't really home, was it? It was her parents' home, but it wasn't Dillon, and she wasn't a little girl anymore. It was true, what they said – you could never really go home again.

It was Gracie who opened the door, screaming, "Julie! Julie! Julie!" and jumping up and down. When Julie walked into the foyer she heard her dad slamming something into a cupboard in the kitchen and then his footsteps down the hallway. Julie had tried to call her mom to tell her she was coming, but her voicemail box had been full.

Her dad didn't seem at all surprised to see her. "Hey, Julie," he said softly, and hugged her tightly, and she sunk into his arms, like a child, not like the woman she was sure she had become. He pulled back, his hands on either of her shoulders, and examined her eyes. "How you doing?" he asked. She just nodded. "Where's Henry?"

"With Matt."

"I'll get your bag out of the car. Give me your keys."

While her dad was getting her stuff, Gracie insisted on showing Julie her latest Barbies. Julie made her best effort to smile and feign interest. As her dad came back into the house, he said, "I was gonna grill pork chops, but now that you're here, I'll just order vegetarian pizza instead. Your mom's gonna be late tonight. She had some kind of admissions emergency."

"Admissions emergency?" It was the first time Julie had laughed in hours.

Her father smiled. "Yeah. Something like that. I don't know. She's got an important meeting."

Later, after she and her dad and Gracie had eaten together, her dad told Gracie to get in PJs and turned on the TV for her. He invited Julie back to the kitchen, where he pulled out a single glass from below the built-in wine rack and poured himself some wine. It was weird seeing her father in this kitchen, standing before a wooden lattice filled with a dozen wine bottles. Her parents had saved up a lot more money over the years than she'd realized, and apparently Mom was raking in the big bucks now. Her father had always been a little tight – too bad they waited until she was out of the house to start spending their cash. Gracie would be growing up in a completely different world.

"Well, pour me a glass too please," she said. "Don't be rude."

"Julie, you're still not _quite_ 21."

She'd gotten married, graduated a semester early from college, and given birth-but her Dad still thought of her as a kid. "It's perfectly legal for parents to give their own kids wine to drink in their own home," she said.

"It is?" He didn't seem quite to believe her, but he got out another glass. He only filled it about three ounces full. He extended her the glass.

"Sorry I just showed up unannounced," she said as she took it.

"It's a'ight. You know you're always welcome."

"Why don't you seem surprised? Did Matt call you? Did he mention Carlotta?"

"No. She showed up here looking for Matt. This was the address listed for him, but she couldn't just call, I think, because Mom and I don't list our phone numbers. Learned our lesson in Dillon."

"Did she have a kid with her?"

He nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, and she followed.

"Did…did he look like Matt?"

He refused to look at her. "Yeah. A lot."

Julie took a small sip of her wine. She put it back on the table. Her dad still wasn't looking at her. "I can't...I just can't…" she said, and now she was the one to look away. "I told him not to call me here. I'm going back home Monday. He's meeting with her Saturday. That's why I didn't want to be there."

Her father leaned forward in his chair. She knew because she could hear it creak and shift. "Hey, Monkey Noodle…"

Monkey Noodle? He hadn't called her that in a long time. She looked at him instinctively and laughed.

He smiled weakly at her. "Hey," he continued softly, "I know you're upset. I understand that. And you're always welcome here. Know that. But you can't…you can't just run home every time you and Matt have problems. And you can't not talk to him for three days straight. That's gonna be agonizing for him."

Some nerve her father had. He was siding with Matt? Because he was a guy?

"When we got married," her dad continued, "your mom and I agreed not to go to bed angry with each other. Most of the time we've stuck to it. You can't resolve everything in one day all the time, but before the sun sets, we try to be reconciled at least to the point where it's clear that even if we're upset, we're committed to each other. What I'm trying to say is, if you just up and leave for three days and don't talk to Matt, he doesn't know. He doesn't know it's going to be okay. That eventually it's going to be okay."

"I don't know that!"

"You're married now, Julie. You aren't just dating anymore. You've got to know that." He sighed. "That's the one thing you've got to always know."

"Are you taking his side?"

"Damn, Julie. I'm not taking anyone's side. I want you two to be happy. But imagine how you'd feel if he just up and left for days…"

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well, he did that while we were dating, and it was a heck of a lot more than three days before he called me, and I hadn't done anything at all."

"Yeah, well, that sucked didn't it? And like I said – you aren't dating anymore. You're a married woman. Even more to the point – you two have a child together."

Yeah, Julie thought. They had ONE of his two children together. "I didn't come here for a lecture," she told him. "I came here…I guess I was an idiot…I came here for comfort."

"I love you, Julie babe, and you can always come here. Always. And I'm always going to love you, no matter what happens with you and Matt. You're my daughter. But it's because I love you that I'm telling you all this." He stood and reached for her wine glass, took it, and walked over to the sink several feet away on the other side of a counter. He poured the remaining two ounces down the drain. "I think I hear your mom's car pulling up."

Julie heard her father walk from the kitchen, but she wasn't looking at him. She was turning her rings back and forth on her finger. The diamond on her engagement ring caught the overhead light from the kitchen and reflected it onto the hood that covered the top of the stove. She could see the grease stains, dark and ugly, in the streaks of light.


	3. Motherly Advice

**Chapter 3: Motherly Advice**

All day Saturday Julie's parents more or less ignored the issue of Matt and Carlotta and the child and just took Julie sightseeing in Philadelphia. After her dad retreated suspiciously early to bed, Julie slumped down into the arm chair in the living room. Her mother, wine in hand, settled onto the couch, and Julie could tell she was trying to gently broach the subject of Matt's child. Julie _did_ want to talk to her mom – that was partly why she had come – but this counselor's pussy footing around was getting annoying, so she just launched right in: "You know what bothers me the most about this whole thing?"

Mrs. Taylor put her wine glass down on the coffee table. "That he never told you about her?"

"No. I knew he'd been with Carlotta. I didn't like it, but we were broken up at the time. "

"Oh…well, then…what?"

"I see how much Matt really wants to take responsibility for this kid, more than Carlotta's going to let him. He's always been the kind of guy who feels like he has to do the right thing, and it makes me wonder if he only married me because I was pregnant."

"Sweetie, that's absurd. He proposed to you before you were pregnant. He gave you a ring. You were engaged!"

"Yeah, but before I got pregnant, we were going to take your advice and wait until I had my B.A. Who knows if we would have stayed together all that time if not for the pregnancy."

Her mom shot her a look of disbelief but then tried to hide it. Or maybe she wasn't hiding it. Maybe she really understood Julie's doubts, because she said, "I never had any reason to tell you this, but you're an adult now, and it's relevant to what you're feeling, so – that's the only reason I'm mentioning it."

Julie met her mother's serious gaze. "What?"

"The first time your father proposed to me, it was because I was pregnant."

Julie's mouth dropped open. "But you guys were married for a couple of years before you had me."

"I ended up miscarrying that time. I was afraid the only reason your dad had proposed was because of the pregnancy. So after I miscarried, I broke off the engagement. " Julie's mom gave her a few more details, but Julie guessed there was plenty she was leaving out. "I didn't want to obligate him," her mom said. "I was afraid he'd keep his word even if he didn't want to. But I think part of me…part of me also broke it off because I secretly hoped he'd go crazy with grief and beg me to come back, tell me he loved me desperately, really wanted me to be his wife."

"He didn't?"

"No," Mrs. Taylor replied. "He started seeing someone else."

"Dad!" Julie exclaimed and shook her head.

"No, no, be fair. I didn't give him a reason for breaking up. I told him I miscarried, and then I just said I wanted it to be over between us. I was so afraid he'd be dutiful, that we'd end up one of _those_ couples, together because we _have_ to be, that I told him not to call me anymore, and I didn't call him. He called me four times over the next two days, and I didn't answer. I told your Aunt Shelley to tell him I wasn't home. Then he just stopped calling."

"Mom, why didn't you give him a chance?"

"Exactly! Why didn't I? It was foolish. I hurt him. Here was a good guy, a really good guy. It's true he mostly suggested getting married at that particular time because of the pregnancy, but that didn't mean he didn't really care about me and wouldn't want to marry me someday down the road. He did care about me…and, look, we've been married over two decades now!"

"So you're saying I should give Matt the benefit of the doubt?"

Mrs. Taylor nodded.

"How long were you and Dad broken up?"

"Two weeks. It didn't take me long to realize what an idiot I'd been. I called him up and said I was sorry and told him I was afraid he'd only asked because of the pregnancy. I told him I wasn't ready to get married or even be engaged yet, but I did want to be with him."

"What did he do?" Julie was all curiosity.

"He told me he loved me and that we could just keep dating."

"Just like that? He wasn't still mad about the breakup?" Julie remembered how bitter Matt had been the first time she had tried to get back together after ditching him for the Swede, or, more accurately, ditching him for fear of ending up like her parents, as though a long-term marriage to your best friend, coupled with a routine, middle-class life, were a fate worse than death.

At the time, it had seemed that way to Julie. The world was vast; she couldn't imagine spending her evenings cooking dinner while her husband sat with his feet up on the hassock, work running through his mind. Going to bed with the same cute but predictable guy, night after night, year after year. Waking up the next morning and having a spat over who had put the car keys where. Kissing and making up and going to work and coming home and doing it all over again.

Julie had thought there must be more to life than that, had told her father as much that night in the car when he had picked her up from the club she'd gone to with the Swede. And he hadn't taken offense at what she'd said, hadn't asked, "What's wrong with ending up like your mother and me?" He'd just listened and told her that no one would love her any less if she chose to break up with Matt. He'd yelled at her when she first got in the car, and then surprised her with his tenderness.

"Sure he was mad," Mrs. Taylor answered, "but...your dad is pretty forgiving. It's hard to believe, I know, as gruff and easily irritated as he can sometimes be, but he really is a very forgiving man."

It wasn't so hard to believe, Julie thought. The things she'd put her father through when she was in high school and that first year of college…the way he had always still been there in the end.

Julie had ultimately done the very thing she had once feared: she had married a man much like her father. She had settled down with the guy you could rely on, the hard worker, the one who always worried about doing the right thing. Like her mother, she had made marriage and family the core of her life. When she first broke up with Matt, Julie had thought she wanted something or someone exciting, but she had only learned the world was an ugly place that seemed much kinder when you had a true friend by your side.

"So you kept dating for another year or so?" Julie asked her mom. "And I guess eventually he proposed again?" Julie asked. "Obviously."

"The first semester of our junior year," her mom answered. "At the campus lake. He wanted to row me out under the stars, but he had that bad knee injury and wasn't getting around too well. That's why he quit college ball and became a coach, you know."

"Yeah. I knew it was some injury." Julie gestured at her mom's engagement ring. "How did he afford that ring in college?"

Mrs. Taylor extended her graceful fingers and watched the diamond catch the light. "He gave me this for our 10th anniversary. You were in elementary school then. The original ring was his mother's. We still - "

Mrs. Taylor was interrupted by the buzzing of Julie's cell phone, which now rattled on the coffee table and moved a few centimeters. Julie picked it up and flipped it open. "I told him not to call while I was here," she said, looking at Matt's photo.

"Julie, babe," her mom said softly. "Don't torture him."

Julie pushed the answer button and brought the phone to her ear. "Hey, Matt," she said softly as her mother slinked from the room.

[***]

"How is she?" Eric asked as Tami slid into bed next to him. He had been lying awake worrying for the past hour, the small, bedroom television a low murmur in the background.

Tami fished for the remote under the blankets and turned off the TV. "I think she's going to be okay. Matt just called. They're talking now."

"Good," he said as she settled in next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. " I don't know what he was thinking with Carlotta, but he's a good kid. And that was a really hard time for him. I remember."

What Eric specifically remembered was grabbing Matt by the neck, dragging the kid into the bathroom, yelling at him, shoving him in the bathtub, and turning the shower on in his face. He remembered Matt blubbering, "Why does everyone leave me? What's wrong with me?" Matt had been talking about Coach Taylor temporarily quitting the Panthers for TMU, about Julie breaking up with him, and about his own father going off to war. Matt hadn't mentioned his mother, who had also left him, but Eric now remembered he _had_ mentioned Carlotta. At the time, Eric had thought it was just one more name to add to the litany; he hadn't guessed at the extent of their relationship then.

"Matt's had a lot of hard knocks," he muttered.

Julie was the center of Matt's world, he thought, just as Tami was of his. Matt had his art, and Eric had his football, but when it came to the one thing that was holding their spirits together and pushing them to achieve, both men could credit their wives. What would his life have been like, Eric wondered, without Tami to buoy him up? "Julie should go easy on him. There's only so many blows a man can take by the time he's twenty-one."

"I think she will," Tami said. "I was worried about her for a while there, worried she was never going to grow up. But she's matured a lot the last two years." She ran a lazy hand across the white cotton of Eric's T-shirt, from his shoulder down to his stomach. "You know what I regret?" she asked.

"Not having sex with me last night or the night before?"

She chuckled. "No."

"Well that seems very regrettable to me."

"Do you keep a tally?"

He rolled sideways and slinked down to be face to face with her. "Yes, and you've been pretty damn stingy this month, baby. Once this week, twice last week, and none at all the week before."

"You ought to get a Jumbotron to track these scores. Maybe you should call up Buddy Garrity and see if you can raise some funds."

"Why," he asked through his laughter, "when I could so easily fit it all on a post-it note?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Tami, hon, you know…practice makes perfect."

"Sweetheart, you need to work on your seduction techniques. Besides, we've both been really busy this month."

"I'm never too busy, sugar."

She laughed and kissed him. "Eric, stop trying to get laid and listen. I regret not having a proper wedding."

"Well, you know, babe, that was your choice. You're the one who convinced me to elope."

"I know. I'm just saying…I don't know. I kind of wish I had gotten the chance to have more of a wedding now."

He kissed her forehead. "Tell you what, my beautiful wife. Our 25th anniversary is coming up not too long from now."

"How long from now?" she asked.

"Not too long from now," he repeated. At the moment he couldn't remember whether they'd been married 21 or 22 years. Or was it already 23? He could remember the day – he never dared forget that – but he couldn't always recall the total. "Anyway," he continued, "seems like a good time to renew our vows. Make it special. Whata ya say?"

"Really?"

"Marry me," he murmured, kissed her, and repeated, "Marry me. Marry me all over again, Tami." His lips met her smiling lips.

She pushed him playfully away. "You're still just trying to get laid."

"No I'm not." He scooted away from her and put his hands up defensively to show her he wasn't even trying to touch her. "I'm serious about renewing our vows. I think we ought to. Not just to give you the wedding you always wanted but because I want you to know…after all the tough stuff we've been through over the years…you're still the one."

"Thanks, hon. But why wait until our 25th?"

"Seems like a nice, round number. But if it'll get me some lovin', we can do it tomorrow."

She laughed. "Twenty-five _is_ a nice, round number." She beckoned him with her head. "Now why don't you come on over here and get your lovin'?"

"Really?"

"Yep. You know why? Because you deserve it."

"I _have_ been a good boy," he said before sliding close and kissing her.

"Your whole life, Eric Taylor," she murmured between kisses. "Your whole damn life." She slid off his T-shirt and gently urged him to lie on his back. She trailed her fingertips down his bare chest and grabbed one end of the drawstring tied at the top of his sweat shorts. She smiled seductively and slowly pulled the string loose.

"You telling me nice guys don't finish last after all?" he asked.

"Oh, no," she said with a sensual yet teasing smile, "you _will_ be finishing last, precisely because you _are_ a nice guy."


	4. Reconciliation

**Chapter 4: Reconciliation**

"Can I just ask you one question?" Julie's bare feet were warm against the summer-heated wood of her parents' back porch. Though the sun had set some time ago, the heat still lingered on the uneven wood planks. The intermittent sound of passing cars drifted from the street at the far end of the back yard. She had come outside to continue her conversation with Matt, because for some reason her parents were laughing hysterically in their bedroom, and it was very distracting.

"Sure," Matt replied.

Julie leaned over the rail and saw in the dim glow of the porch light the weeds growing high underneath and between the bushes. Weeding had been her mother's job, and Julie supposed her new career was keeping her too busy. Her dad, on the other hand, had fewer troubles to consume his time than he had experienced in football-obsessed Dillon, and he had apparently taken on the cooking and most of the Gracie management, and Julie knew he did the grocery shopping as well. Maybe he should start weeding too.

"Why didn't you use condoms?" It was something that had been bothering Julie. When they were dating, Matt had always been so careful with her. She wanted to believe they were equally responsible types, that it hadn't been just because of her. Sure, there had been that one time after they were already engaged, when they had realized at the last minute they were out, when both had agreed they were willing to take the risk…but he had still been in high school when he was with Carlotta, and they hadn't even been dating really.

Julie wondered briefly how her mom had managed to get pregnant in college but quickly banished the question from her mind. She didn't want to think about her mom having sex. As far as she was concerned, her parents had engaged in the act only twice, to produce her and Gracie. Well, she'd have to concede a third time now that she knew about the early miscarriage.

"I did," Matt answered. "Every time."

Julie didn't want to think about _every time_. She stood back up from where she was leaning and walked over to one of the two wicker rocking chairs and sat down. Where on earth had they bought those? The Cracker Barrel? God her parents were getting old.

Between the two chairs was a small table where there rested an empty wine bottle her parents had forgotten to take inside. She imagined them sitting here on this porch at night after Gracie was in bed, relaxing and sharing a bottle, laughing and smiling together, confident in a marriage that had already lasted over two decades, that had already weathered most of the challenges that still lay ahead of her and Matt, and, for a moment, she was jealous. Jealous that their work seemed over while hers had just begun.

That was the problem with perception. When you were in high school and thinking seriously about your own future for the first time, you saw your parents in their prime, making a comfortable income that had required years of gradual raises to achieve, communicating wordlessly, relaxed into a kind of mutual understanding it had taken them scores of fights to hammer out, enjoying, whatever the troubles, an overarching trust and a belief in one another that was born of so very many years of small proofs. And if you weren't careful, you could easily step out of your parents' house into the world expecting the same sort of conditions a foot beyond the gate. Maybe Julie had done just that. Maybe she hadn't realized until recently just how far and long her parents had walked, how far and long she herself had yet to go. And she already felt tired.

"So…what happened?" Julie asked. "Did it break or something?"

"No. I don't know what happened. I don't know. It doesn't work a hundred percent of the time. Even with perfect use...like three percent of people...I mean, hey, _you_ got pregnant, remember? Maybe I'm just incredibly virile."

Despite her lingering annoyance, she laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure that was from that one time we ran out. Remember? We agreed we were willing to take the risk. I don't think either of us really expected…just the one time...you know?"

"Yeah, like I said...virile."

Julie could imagine his self-deprecating smile. Matt was not a guy from whom boasting ever came as anything but a joke. She heard a soft gurgle and the sound of swallowing and realized Matt was giving Henry a bottle. He usually slept through the night now, but perhaps her absence had interrupted his schedule. "I'm certainly not sorry we've got Henry," she said, "but who knows…who knows what would have happened to us. Do you think we would have stayed engaged two more years and gotten married?"

"Of course we would have."

"But if Carlotta had called you up and we were still just engaged, and there was no Henry…" She trailed off.

"Are you suggesting I'd of dumped you and tried to get back together with her?"

"She's the mother of your child. So am I. But if I wasn't…"

"If you weren't you'd still be the first girl I ever fell in love with, the one I dated on and off for years, the one I asked to marry me, the one who was living with me, the one - "

Her conversation with her mother had already begun to persuade Julie of the foolishness of these doubts, but they sounded even more idiotic now. " - Sorry," she interrupted. "Sorry I haven't handled this so well…"

He didn't say, "It's okay," because it wasn't okay, really, the way she had questioned his tested love and loyalty, the way she'd taken off Friday afternoon and not returned his 4 PM call or his 5 PM call or his 7 PM call or his 9 PM call….or his Saturday morning and afternoon calls. But he didn't try to make her feel bad about it either. Instead he asked, "When are you coming home? Are you still coming home Monday? I miss you."

"I miss you too. I'll be home before Monday. I think I'll go to church with my folks tomorrow morning – my mom would probably like me to – and then I'll go out to lunch with them and drive straight up. I should be home by 4."

"Good."

"Did you get the paternity test?"

"Julie, he looks like me. I don't think there's any question. But I'll get the test, just to make sure."

She pushed off the wood with the tip of her toes and the chair rocked slowly. "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. I know this has been a shock for you, and I know you're upset you don't get to be a part of his life...and I'm sorry I haven't been there for you."

"I love you too, Julie. Thanks. I mean, thanks for...thanks for being sorry. Not for being sorry, but I mean - "

" - I understand," she interrupted him. And she did. They'd been together less than six years, counting all the time they had dated, which was admittedly nothing compared to her parents' two plus decades, but she _did_ understand.

[***]

Later that night, exhausted by their lovemaking, Eric and Tami lay spooned together. She snuggled in close and said, "By the way, I told Julie about me being pregnant before we were married."

"What?" he sat bolt upright in the bed. "Why would you tell her that?"

Tami sat up with him and took his hand. "She needed to hear it. She was worried Matt had only married her because of the baby. I didn't give her the details. I let her assume the baby was yours, and I didn't tell her it was Mo's." Tami had been dating Eric only briefly when she found out she was pregnant with her ex-boyfriend's child. She'd told him everything, and he'd shocked her with his proposal.

He sighed and slid back down, laying his head on his pillow and resting his hands on top of the blanket that fell just above his waist.

"Hey," Tami said, "since we're already talking about the past…"

He groaned. "Come on now, babe, don't go diggin' in that dirt." He pulled the blanket up over his head.

She pulled it off of him and said, "I just want to know one thing. One thing."

"A'ight, but let me get dressed for this conversation."

"Why?"

"In case I have to run from you."

He got up and put back on his sweat shorts and T-shirt. She told him he might as well throw her some nightclothes too. He tossed her some sexy lingerie from the top drawer of her dresser. She held it back out to him with a look that said _You've got to be kidding me._

He hrmphed, muttered something about how good boys always deserve to go for two, took it back, shoved it in the drawer, and then tossed her flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt instead. When she was dressed, they settled back into the bed. Eric sat up against the headboard, folded his hands across his lap, and said, "Okay. Shoot."

Tami sat crosslegged next to him, facing him. "I always assumed I was the second and last woman you ever had sex with. I didn't know about that other girl you _almost_ had sex with when we were broken up, and I'm curious about something."

"Be careful now, Tami. Don't go startin' a fight."

"I was wondering…you broke up with Becky the summer before college, but you didn't start dating me until a month before the end of our freshman year. I know you didn't have a steady girlfriend that whole time, and you said you thought casual sex was rude, so I just assumed…but…maybe I shouldn't have. I mean, that's a long time for a good-looking guy like you, who's got to have lots of opportunities …Was I really your second?"

"You really want to know?"

She nodded.

"I never asked you about anyone before Mo."

"I know. Do you want to ask? I'll be honest with - "

"- No!" Eric interrupted. "I don't want to know anything about anything."

"I just want to know out of curiosity. I swear I'm not trying to start any - "

" - Sure you're not. You're just digging around aimlessly in a mine field just for the fun of it."

"Eric! Come on. I'm not going to be upset no matter what you answer."

"Oh, Tami," he laughed. "Oh, babe. How long have I been married to you now? Half the time when I'm silent, it's because there _is_ no right answer. I know I'm going to get in trouble no matter what I say."

She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Give me more credit than that. Just answer."

"Fine," he said. "No. No, you weren't my second."

She sighed. "Okay. How many?"

"How many what?"

"How many girls did you have sex with between Becky and me? I'm just curious."

"None."

She shook her head in confusion. "What? You're not making any sense."

"I'm going to sleep. See if you can figure it out." He slid down, lay his head sideways on the pillow, and closed his eyes.

She sat there shaking her head lightly, her hands slapped down on her crossed legs, muttering, "What? I don't get…what?" Then, her voice a little higher, "Did you cheat on Becky?"

His eyes shot open. "No! Jeez, Tami. God, no. I've never been a cheater." He closed them again.

"Then what? You were with her since 9th grade. I'm pretty damn sure you weren't having sex in junior high."

"That would be an accurate assumption," he murmured.

"Then _what_? You didn't cheat on Becky, and you didn't have sex before Becky. I'm _not_ your second, but you didn't have sex with any other girl between Becky and me."

He refused to open his eyes but muttered, "Tami, there's a possibility you're overlooking here."

She just kept shaking her head, and he laughed.

"Tell me! You're not making any sense," she said over his laughter. He shut his mouth tightly, but she could see his chest heaving under the blanket with the laughter he was suppressing, and a low chuckling sound still managed to escape him. "Becky was your first, so if there was no one else between her and me – then I had to be your second." She was gesturing with her hands now, slapping the edge of one down against the palm of the other as she said, "I had to! It's just logical reasoning. It's a straightforward deduction."

He finally stopped chuckling. "Let me know when you figure it out. I'm telling you, you still haven't considered _all_ the possibilities."

She sat there rolling it over and over in her mind. "I give up," she said finally. "I flat give up. Okay! You win! You win the puzzle or the game or whatever it is. What's the solution?"

His eyes still closed, he mumbled. "You weren't my second because you were my first."

_"What?"_

"I never had sex with Becky. She wanted to wait until we were married."

"I thought you – everyone thought you – "

"Yep. People think all sorts of things. They gotta right to speculate, I suppose."

"You really never had sex with Becky?" she asked in disbelief.

"Really. Never. God knows I wanted to. But I wasn't going to push her if that's how she felt."

"Well that just dills my pickle!"

"Well it didn't dill my pickle," he muttered into the pillow.

"Wait. You mean _I_ took your virginity from you?"

His eyes were open now. "I don't think there was much _taking_ involved, Tami. I was pretty happy to hand it over."

She uncrossed her legs, crawled under the blankets, and lay down beside him, her elbow against the pillow and her head resting on her hand. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"You never asked. And you were…" - she could tell he didn't want to allude to the fact - "...experienced. I didn't think it was necessary to advertise the fact that I wasn't."

_Wow._ She mouthed the word. _Wow._


	5. Conclusion

"What are you whistling about?" Eric's daughter asked him as she entered the kitchen.

He flipped the eggs in the frying pan. "Nothing. Just happy." Not only had he had a pleasant night, but he had been woken up by a kiss on his ear, followed by a trail of kisses to his collar bone, which culminated in an unpredicted session of morning lovemaking. Apparently Tami had been turned on by his admission that she was his first and only. Perhaps he should have told her that twenty years sooner. Nah. He supposed it was good to save your capital, because, once you spent it…it eventually ran out. He hoped this would keep him well supplied for a few more weeks, and then he'd have to come up with some other seduction technique than an unexpected history of abstinence.

Julie slid onto a stool on the other side of the bar that separated the kitchen from the breakfast nook.

"You don't eat eggs, do you?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I do now. Eggs and fish. Just not any other meat."

"That's completely irrational." He slid some eggs from the pan onto two plates. "I suppose fish aren't cute enough to live." He switched off the burner, filled then pan with water from the sink, and then put it back, sizzling, on the stove. "But cows are just as ugly, and oh so much more tasty." He grabbed a couple of forks, brought the plates over, and sat next to her.

"What about Mom?" she asked.

"She went back to sleep for a bit. She'll probably just hit the fellowship table hard at church later. They've got these little cherry tarts she loves."

They ate in silence for a while, and then Julie surprised him. "Thanks for being such a great dad," she said.

He looked at her with a hesitant smile, not sure where this had come from, not sure if it was a good thing. It wasn't common for Julie to compliment her parents, and when she did, Tami always assumed there was something seriously wrong…so maybe he should suspect something here. "Did I do something right recently?" he asked.

"No. I mean, in general. Mom and I were talking last night and it got me thinking about all the years…" She nodded. "You've been a really good dad. I've been really lucky to have you and Mom. You know, most of my friends…they don't have two parents who love each other and are committed to always working it out with each other and who have always been there for them. Even if they have dads in their lives, their dads mostly just avoid talking to them about anything that matters. I mean, you're certainly not gregarious or anything…but…" - she shrugged - "I can talk to you when I really need to."

Now Eric smiled broadly instead of hesitantly.

"Thanks for your advice Friday night."

Eric nodded his welcome. "Everything go okay with your talk with Matt last night?" he asked.

She pushed her eggs around her plate with her fork before spearing a piece. "Yeah. Like you said…it's not _all_ worked out, but we're definitely at the point where we know it's going to be okay, that eventually it's going to be okay."

"Daaaady!" came a cry from the general direction of Gracie's room. "Daady! Daady!" Gracie skipped into the kitchen in her PJs. Eric stood to catch her cheerful morning hug.

He lifted her up and kissed her cheek, spun her around, and put her back down. "All my girls are lovin' on me this morning," he said. He patted Gracie's head just before she rushed over to try to scale the stool next to Julie. Eric sighed, a long, contented sigh. "Let's just freeze this morning right here," he said. "Just freeze it."

[***]

"It's not a shit-eating grin," Matt insisted.

"If you looked up shit-eating grin in the dictionary," Julie countered, "there would be a picture of your face." She patted his bare chest. The sheet formed a diagonal across their glistening, naked bodies in the double bed. "It's totally not an insult. I love your shit-eating grin. I love that I inspire it."

He turned on his side and nuzzled her. "You could inspire it again."

"You haven't wiped it off your face yet." She settled into a cuddle position. "I'm so glad I have you. "

"You are pretty lucky," he said.

She smacked him playfully.

"Okay, I mean we _both_ got pretty lucky." He slid a hand down to her hip. "But especially you." She shoved him, they tussled, and then they made love again.

**Epilogue**

Carlos caught the ball Coach Taylor had just thrown him and prepared to aim it back at Matt. "Let Henry have the ball," Eric ordered. "Let the little guy have a turn." Carlos glanced at Matt, who, standing on the other side of Coach Taylor, nodded in agreement.

Carlos threw the ball to his half-brother. Henry slapped his hands together, but there was nothing between them. The football wobbled on the grass outside the Taylor home. Grace, who was sitting on the front steps watching them, laughed. She put her hands above her chest and extended them outward one at a time. "Goooo, Henry!" When she started junior high next year, Matt thought, she was going to try out for cheerleading, if Julie didn't talk her out of it.

Matt had gotten the paternity test, and it had indicated that Carlos _could_ possibly be his son. That, combined with Carlotta's word and Henry's blue eyes, suggested he was. Carlotta had already named Matt as the father on the birth certificate anyway.

Time had passed. Eric and Tami had renewed their wedding vows, Matt and Julie had seen their first few anniversaries, and Carlotta had decided to tell Carlos Matt was his father after all; she had not kept the secret from the boy. Matt e-mailed and called his oldest son regularly, and two months every summer, Carlos lived with Matt and Julie before returning to Guatemala. This June, they were visiting the Taylors for a week.

Julie now opened the front door. "Grilled cheese and tomato soup!" she shouted.

The kids ran in the house and Eric limped toward the stairs. "Need some aspirin, old man?" Matt asked him as he overtook him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

Mrs. Taylor's subdued chuckle came from behind Julie. "You're not in your 40's anymore, Eric," she told her husband as she walked out onto the porch. "You can't play that hard."

"Stop rubbing it in," Coach Taylor grumbled. "Don't forget you hit the big 5-0 soon yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm turning 39, hon."

Coach Taylor came up the stairs and drew his wife close. "Well you could convince me. Damn but I married a looker."

"Ewww!" Julie complained as her father kissed her mother, and she turned quickly and disappeared into the house.

Matt himself eased around the flirting couple, closed the front door, and left them alone on the porch. He was uncomfortable at the Taylors' public display of affection, but, unlike Julie, he didn't feel inclined to call it gross. Instead, he thought of the long, satisfying life that lay ahead of him and Julie, and considered that 50, which had once seemed so very ancient to him, might not be so bad after all.

**THE END**


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